


Flove

by Quivo (quivo)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Femdom, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Light BDSM, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-13
Updated: 2006-06-13
Packaged: 2019-04-30 14:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14499108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quivo/pseuds/Quivo
Summary: Harry hasn't seen Ginny in so long...





	Flove

**Author's Note:**

> So I completely forgot this fic existed, until I went digging at skyehawke for other reasons. Short and sweet and vaguely canon-compliant up to HBP (I think??), it's just a little bit of plotless F/m I wrote back in the day. Tagged underage as per archive rules. Enjoy!

## Flove

By the end of Ginny’s frank account of how DADA training at Hogwarts had picked up, Harry was starting to heartily wish he’d not been daft enough to sit pretzel-style in front of the fire. Not only were his legs aching, but somewhere else was starting to ache at Ginny’s quiet, matter-of-fact tone and the way she pursed her lips when she was thinking. And that somewhere was far too prominently positioned for his own good, thanks to his daft decision to sit like this – the only reason Ginny hadn’t noticed yet was probably because she was still speaking –

“…and I think that’s it,” Ginny said, her voice trailing off towards the end of her sentence. Harry shifted uncomfortably, willing his body to behave. Certainly, he hadn’t seen Ginny in a month and all, but was that any excuse for him to salivate over the way her soft mouth moved as her head hovered in his fireplace?

None. None at all.

“Harry? Are you listening?” Ginny’s eyebrows were raised, and she looked a little hurt.

“Yeah, of course,” Harry said hastily, shifting again with no better results. What was he, crazy? They were at war, for crying out loud! It was unsafe for Ginny to Floo out of Hogwarts (especially as she probably wouldn’t be able to Floo back in…!) just to service him – “Erm, go on –”

“I just told you I had nothing to go on with,” Ginny said testily, rolling her eyes. Biting her lower lip. God. “Harry –”

“I’ve – I’ve got a lot on my mind,” Harry said, desperately, deciding to end this conversation before it really began to embarrass him. He was so hard just thinking about it, though – she’d given him head before Bill and Fleur’s disastrous wedding had begun, after marching him into her room at wandpoint and locking the door with such a satisfyingly dirty look on her face that – “Er – you should probably –”

But Ginny wasn’t listening to him any more. Her eyes were doing the talking, now – or, rather, exploring, travelling down to his horribly tight trousers and lingering.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Harry said, embarrassedly, though, on second thought, he’d rather withdraw that statement. The look on her face was rather more one of blushing lust than of censure, and it really didn’t help his state, as did the fact that his body was betraying him by shifting him closer to the warmth of the fire. “I’m just – it’s been a long time, Ginny, I’m sorry –”

“I didn’t say anything,” Ginny said, quietly, her eyes still lingering. “I – I just thought –” Fevered, Harry clenched his hands, trying to stop them from inching down to – “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“No,” Harry said, in a rather strangled tone. “No, Ginny.” She smiled, her eyes trailing momentarily up to his face before returning inevitably to the bulging front of his trousers. “What do you…?”

“Take them off,” she ordered, lowly. Harry unzipped himself with shaking hands and began to roll his trousers down, twisting uncomfortably so that he wouldn’t fall on his back as he did so – “On your knees, Potter.”

Gulping, Harry scrambled to his knees, the cool air hitting his bare arse contrasting with the warmth of the fire hitting his cock as he dragged down his briefs at Ginny’s behest, his nipples tightening in anticipation as Ginny’s tone hardened. God, he’d missed this –

“Lick your palm,” Ginny was saying now, her eyes fixed on his blushing face, “ – not like that, Potter. Slowly.” Harry did, licking his fingers as well as he did so, enjoying the flush on Ginny’s cheeks and the way her eyes couldn’t seem to leave his fingers. He wondered if he remembered that day out by the lake when he’d fingered her in public – she’d loved that – “Touch yourself, Potter – no, just the…just the head. Yes.” Her voice was becoming unsteady. Harry gasped and moaned, squeezing hard as he thought of the way she might be touching yourself – “Stroke yourself – lighter than that – no squeezing, or I’ll stop –”

Harry choked, but made himself do it, his toes curling in his shoes as Ginny’s voice went lower and rougher, ordering him to suck on his fingers and stick one up himself, telling him to squeeze harder and softer and harder and it wasn’t a surprise that he came very soon, or that he was writhing on the floor by the time he did so, or even that Ginny’s eyes were half closed by the time she started coming. Breathing hard, he made himself watch, partly because she always seemed to be able to tell if he didn’t (and would punish him at a later date) and partly because he needed to, needed to see that small ‘o’ her mouth made when she – when she –

“Merlin,” Ginny breathed, her voice faint. “I’m just – just glad no one’s ever down here by two in the – in the morning,” she went on, softly, watching avidly as Harry tried futilely to wipe himself clean. “So. Thursday fine?”

“Only if we get to do this again,” Harry said quietly, shakily.

Ginny gave him a long look, and smiled a little. “We’ll see. Ta, Harry.”

“See you,” Harry said, mind whirling with anticipation. Thursday couldn’t come quick enough, in his opinion.


End file.
